


The Interview

by Flames and Fairy Tales (Flames_and_Fairy_Tales)



Series: Let's go, Lucy! [1]
Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Gen, Lucy has an eevee, Set in TSS, a babey for a babey, they all have pokemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames_and_Fairy_Tales/pseuds/Flames%20and%20Fairy%20Tales
Summary: After seven applications in two weeks, and just as many rejections, Lucy Carlyle is almost out of options. Lockwood and co seems to be the last opportunity for her to earn a living for her and her eevee, Vivi.A reinterpretation of Lucy's job interview at Lockwood and co, in a world where everything we know about the series is true, but pokemon exist.
Relationships: Lucy Carlyle & George Cubbins & Anthony Lockwood
Series: Let's go, Lucy! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103858
Comments: 13
Kudos: 11





	The Interview

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellajane2255](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellajane2255/gifts).



The small red and white ball at Lucy’s belt jiggled as Lucy reached out to knock on the black front door. She took a step back to wait for it to open and brought her hand to her belt. It had taken quite some negotiating to get her little eevee into the pokeball, but agencies didn’t appreciate applicants letting their pokemon roam free during job interviews, and Lucy was almost out of options.

After seven applications in two weeks—and just as many rejections—she couldn’t afford to end up like the twelve-year-old who had been interviewed at Rotwell before her. His koffing escaped its ball halfway through, and he was unceremoniously kicked to the curb by a coughing supervisor. They had to do Lucy’s interview in a break room while the young man’s office got aired out. Needless to say, he had no patience for her lack of references or incomplete certifications.

A moment passed before the door opened. A chubby boy appeared, with messy blond hair and large round glasses. He was wearing a large, baggy hoody, which didn’t do much for him. The hood was strangely bulbous. The boy’s face didn’t reveal any emotion, but his blue eyes were sharp and calculating. Lucy got the feeling he wasn’t very impressed with her either. 

“You don’t have donuts,” he said. 

“Why should I have donuts?” Lucy, who had been expecting an introduction—or at the very least a ‘hello’—asked. 

“Thought you might’ve been Arif’s new girl, from the cornershop. An applicant then, I suppose. What’s your name?” 

“I’m Lucy Carlyle,” Lucy answered, tapping the pommel of her rapier to emphasise her next words, “an agent. Are you Mr Lockwood, then?”

“I’m not.” 

Lucy didn’t find out whether he was planning to elaborate on that statement, because a terrified scream from deeper in the house interrupted their conversation. The high-pitched sound cut through the air and made Lucy jump. The boy didn’t seem startled. 

“Thought she wouldn’t last long,” he concluded, “come on in, the last girl will be out shortly.” As he turned around, the reason for the strange shape of his hood was revealed. Nestled in it was a fluffy rowlett, peering at her with big, unblinking eyes. It seemed as unbothered by the sound of utmost terror that had just rung out as its trainer. 

A well-dressed girl appeared as Lucy stepped into the hallway. She was trailed by a trembling flabébé, clutching the style of its red flower tightly. She stormed past Lucy and the boy, cursed loudly and after a last kick to the door, disappeared from sight. Suddenly Lucy wasn’t too sure about this interview. 

The boy led Lucy deeper into the house, past large mahogany bookshelves and colourful artefacts. She didn’t have time to stop and look, but in passing she saw a helix fossil, gourds, and objects decorated with colourful feathers from exotic pokemon.

Lucy finally learned the boy’s name when he showed her to the living room, where a tall young man stood beside a low coffee table. A large round object on the table caught Lucy’s attention. Something about it seemed off. She thought that if she concentrated, she might catch psychic sounds and assumed it might be connected to the terrified scream of the other girl. The new boy distracted her He was wearing a dark suit and a broad smile. 

“I win George, I knew there was another one,” he boasted. Lucy approached him, hand outstretched. 

They exchanged greetings and introductions, and the professionalism was a welcome change to George’s nonchalance. The light hairs that stuck to his clothes undermined the effect slightly. They belonged to a large meowth, which was curled up on one of the armchairs. As Lucy looked at it, it opened one eye, yawned, and returned to its nap. The meowth’s fur was shiny and well brushed, but the chair cushion was covered in loose hairs as well, and Lucy decided not to sit near the shedding pokemon. Dealing with her own pokemon’s fur was enough of a hassle for her. 

While George and rowlett were off to prepare tea, Lockwood started the interview. They discussed Lucy’s talents and previous experience, and when they had passed the topic of her missing references, she was sure she had a clear shot. 

The door opened again, and rowlett flew in ahead of George. George was carrying a tray with three mugs, a platter of biscuits and a small bowl of poffins. 

“Still here? I thought you would have booked it by now,” he remarked. 

“We haven’t started the tests yet,” Lockwood informed him as rowlett dived for the bowl of poffins. The bird pokemon grabbed two in its talons and flew over to the chair meowth was napping in. It dropped one of them on Meowth’s nose, before perching on the armrest, just out of swiping distance. Meowth merely opened its eyes, snapped up the treat, and went back to its nap. Lucy had the feeling there was little that could phase it. 

Lucy accepted the cup of tea she was offered, wrapping her fingers around the delicate porcelain. George 

“You are a trainer, I assume?” Lockwood asked after he took a sip from his own cup. 

Lucy nodded in response, gesturing to the pokeball attached to her belt. 

“I have an eevee. She’s my only pokemon, and I don’t intend to get another one any time soon.”

“A normal type, that’s quite convenient. They’re not affected by ghosts,” George remarked. 

“I’m well aware, thank you,” Lucy replied. It was hard not to let her irritation with the boy’s attitude show.

“Well, I think it’s time for the tests,” Lockwood interrupted before the tension could rise further. “Are you ready, Miss Carlyle?” Lucy nodded, and with a theatrical gesture Lockwood pulled away the dotted handkerchief to reveal a cylinder of clear, thick glass. It had a silver sheen, and the opening was closed off with a red plastic stopper. An old brown skull was clamped to the bottom of the jar, surrounded by a sort of yellow smoke. 

“What can you tell me about this?” Lockwood asked. There was a hint of eagerness in his voice that made Lucy want to impress him. She leant forward, ignoring the distressed wriggle of the pokeball on her belt. It was the first time in ages her eevee was stuck in her pokeball for over twenty minutes, and Lucy knew how much she disliked it. Still, she had to focus on her interview. 

“It’s a silver glass jar,” she replied to Lockwood’s question. “Made by the Sunrise corporation, I think. She squinted at the yellow smoke swirling around the dark object at the centre. She reached out and tapped her fingernail against the glass. 

Two things happened at once. The smoke in the jar twisted and curled to flash a clear look at the skull, before taking the appearance of a disturbing face, crudely passing over the skull beneath. At the same time a white beam of energy burst from Lucy’s belt, and her little silver pokemon appeared in between Lucy and the coffee table, yipping and growling at the jar in front of her. 

“Vivi!” Lucy grabbed her eevee and pulled her away from the coffee table. 

“A shiny pokemon?” George asked. He was looking interested in what was happening for the first time since he entered the sitting room again. 

“Small too,” Lockwood remarked. He watched as Lucy scooped the pokemon up and set her in her lap, caressing her head to calm her down. “Are you a new trainer, Miss Carlyle?” 

“No, I got her when I was ten, like most other trainers,” Lucy answered. After a few more scratches behind the ears, her pokemon sat on her haunches, but didn’t take her eyes off of the silver glass jar. The ectoplasmic face stuck its tongue out. “I got Vivi right after she was weaned. She was born in the wild, but found abandoned in the valley near my home town. She had barely opened her eyes and according to the pokemon center nurse, it was a very close call.” 

“That makes sense, pokemon with unusual colouration often are the runt of a litter, or shunned by their parents entirely. Having young without proper camouflage leaves them vulnerable to predators, so the parents focus on raising the babies more likely to survive.” George said, leaning forward to study Lucy’s eevee a little closer. Lucy could swear his eyes glittered with interest behind his round spectacles.

“Yeah, that is pretty much what the nurse told me when I picked her. She stayed quite small for an eevee, but she is perfectly healthy. Someone at the centre had already named her Vivi, and she responds to that name, so I stuck with it.” 

“Well, you can leave Vivi out of her ball, but I would like to get on with the interview now, Miss Carlyle,” Lockwood stated.

“Ah, right… Of course.” Lucy cleared her throat. “Well, it’s a ghost jar. The skull is the source, and there is a phantom attached to it. Or maybe a spectre, I’m not entirely sure.” She sat back in her chair, caressing Vivi’s furry collar to hide her hands. Her eevee had pulled the attention away from her own reaction to the jar, but the sudden appearance of the ghost had startled her, and her fingers were still trembling slightly. 

“That’s right,” Lockwood agreed after a moment. His expression was thoughtful, but Lucy thought she could detect a hint of satisfaction with her answer as well. 

“It scared her,” George interjected, “You could see.” 

Lockwood and Lucy both ignored the remark. 

“How did you get that?” Lucy asked as Lockwood covered the jar back up. “I thought these things were only used by Fittes and Rotwell. 

“You may ask questions later, miss Carlyle,” Lockwood said. “I’d like to test your talents now.”

Lucy suspected something was up with the white porcelain cup Lockwood handed her when Vivi only sniffed it once before settling back on her lap, but she closed her eyes and brushed her fingers over the cup, anyway. As she expected, nothing happened. She gave another try, but after a minute of nothing happening gave up. George had grabbed a comic from somewhere and was silently reading. Lockwood just watched her. 

“I can’t detect anything, sorry.” 

Lockwood nodded. “Good! This is the cup George keeps his toothbrush in. Onto the next.” he picked up the cup and tossed it to George, who caught it with a frown.   
Lucy felt her blood run cold, and with one arm around Vivi to keep her from tumbling to the floor, she shot up from her seat. 

“I’m not here to be made fun of. We’ll find our way out.” 

“ooh, feisty.”

“That’s right! Step over here, and Vivi and I will show you exactly how feisty we are.” 

George blinked, his rowlet chirped from its perch on the chair. “I might just do that.” 

“Calm down, both of you,” Lockwood interrupted, “This is an interview, not a gym battle. I am sorry for upsetting you, Miss Carlyle, but this was a serious test, and you passed with flying colours. All day we have had interviewees make up stories about poisonings, suicide and murder. This cup would be the most haunted cup in London if the mildest of their tales were true. If you’d please sit down, I’ve got a few more objects I want you to analyse.”

As he spoke, he pulled three new objects out of the box. After a moment, Lucy sat back down, allowing Vivi to climb up to her shoulders. Her fluffy collar tickled her cheek, and her weight was a silent comfort as Lucy sought out the hidden depths of the penknife, the lacy ribbon and the gentleman’s wristwatch. She took her time to detect everything she possibly could and answered Lockwood’s questions with confidence. She didn’t hide that the echoes from the watch had upset her. Lucy was still a bit upset about their earlier trick, and the horrible feelings the watch had stirred in her didn’t do much to improve her mood. 

Vivi nuzzled her hair, and Lucy leant forward to grab her one of the poffins. She took two of the biscuits for herself, too exhausted to care about anything. The long silence between them was only disturbed by the purring snores coming from the meowth, which hadn’t moved an inch from its curled position in the other armchair since the start of the interview. 

“Well, I guess I know where the door is,” she said eventually.

“Tell her about the biscuit rule,” George said, not looking up from his comic. 

“what?” 

“Tell her, Lockwood. If we don’t get this straight, there will be hell to pay.” 

Lockwood grinned. “The rule here is that each member of the agency only takes one biscuit at a time, in strict rotation. Keeps it fair, keeps it orderly. Nicking two in times of stress simply cannot be allowed.” 

“One biscuit at a time?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Does that mean I’ve got the job?” 

“Of course you’ve got the job.”

**Author's Note:**

> This little scene is part of an AU the lovely [Ellajane2255](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellajane2255/pseuds/Ellajane2255/) and I came up with together. We had a lot of fun coming up with ideas and headcanons, and decided to share. I won't promise regular updates, but we'd love to hear if you want more!


End file.
